


(Don't) save me

by Cinna_moon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:53:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinna_moon/pseuds/Cinna_moon
Summary: Sirius Black, a self-proclaimed bachelor and lover of life, is mostly known for his long history of breaking hearts. Maybe it's time for him to mend one.
Relationships: (Main), Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Sirius Black/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31
Collections: Lightningstar Holiday Fest





	(Don't) save me

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [LightningstarHolidayFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LightningstarHolidayFest) collection. 



> _Prompt_ : Harry is trapped in a relationship he can't escape from. Can Sirius save him?
> 
> So many thanks go to Rain, who helped me beta this text and encouraged me more times than I could count. Thank you, love! ♡

Dinner was going all right, so far, maybe a bit too all right for Harry's liking, as if following a pattern. He wasn't one for drama, but he could feel the tension between them, as though a bomb was expected to be dropped at any moment. It made Harry uneasy. His partner— for he didn't like to be called boyfriend — took care of ordering their food and a bottle of suitable matching wine. Whether he'd done a good job of it, Harry couldn't tell, but judging by the slight nod Tom gave after studying the colour, odour, and finally the taste, the wine was satisfactory. 

Harry swallowed a bite, before starting a conversation. "How was work today?"

"Good, thank you. There's a soirée on the 26th with some big companies I'm hoping to impress."

"Oh." Harry lowered his eyes to the table, fighting back the disappointment settling in his stomach. "But the 26th is the game. I've had the tickets for months."

Tom blinked twice, his unsmiling face stony, however Harry knew he was thinking. He sensed the answer before Tom even opened his mouth. "I'm sorry. I cannot afford to miss this." He paused for a moment and Harry reached for his glass, taking two big gulps of the too-sour wine. Tom frowned at him in a silent scold for drinking the wine so quickly, and then continued: "You shall take Ron, the boy will be thankful." Harry had been looking forward to the game ever since he bought the tickets. He couldn't have afforded them before but his situation was more stabilised now and he found he could buy things not only out of necessity. 

"Yeah, alright," he sighed and then added, just because he couldn't keep it in. "I wanted to go with you."

Tom narrowed his lips and Harry lowered his eyes back to his plate, promptly cutting a piece of meat and chewing it slowly. 

"I will take you out next time," Tom promised and Harry smiled faintly. 

"How are your studies going?"

"Fine," Harry shrugged. He finished his food and aligned the cutlery as Tom taught him. "We were assigned to make chairs this week but our group is making more of a throne than chair," he grinned. He clasped his hands together on the table and was tapping with his feet on the floor, not really trying to hide his excitement. "It looks awesome so far."

"I believe so. Maybe you could design me a throne for my living room?"

"I'd love to. I can totally imagine one fitting there." He imagined Tom sitting there in the big room, petting his snake while sitting on a throne, and he chuckled. 

"What are you grinning about?" Harry described his vision and Tom looked pensively, declaring, "Hmm, a striking image." Harry laughed again. 

Turning serious again, Harry broached the topic he had been preparing for for the whole evening. "So. Sirius wants to meet you."

"Excuse me?" Okay, maybe he could have approached it gentler. 

"Sirius. He wants to meet my partner. Er- you."

"What for?"

"I mean, you're important to me, aren't you?" He ran his palms over his thighs absentmindedly, wiping the sweat away. Tom finished his dinner as well and was now nursing his wine glass, somehow looking content. "I think he's trying to integrate into my life...and compensate for the years he missed. That's what Hermione says, at least."

"He should have thought of that sooner."

Harry didn't reply for he didn't have an answer. Did he wish he could have grown up with his godfather instead of the Dursley's, his foster family? The concept sounded promising, Harry had to admit, but what did he really know about his godfather? Most of Harry's life, he was away and Harry really didn't remember the brief time Sirius was in his life as a toddler. He wasn't even three years old when Sirius met a Japanese woman who absolutely stole his heart. He moved to Japan with her and after the death of Harry's parents the two lost touch.

It wasn't until Harry was 17, never having heard of having a godfather in the first place, that Sirius returned. When Sirius got back, he was refused guardianship as Harry already had a foster family he'd been fully integrated with for years. 

Despite Harry's disdain for life with the Dursley's, particularly his foster brother Dudley, the gifts Sirius had begun to shower him with as a teen had indeed impressed him. However, Harry's naïveté didn't last and he still counted the days until he could escape to university and rent a flat as far from the Dursley's as possible. Living with Hermione, Ron and Neville was nice and Sirius seemed to understand that he wasn't able to fill fourteen-year-old void with an expensive watch with golden hands. He didn't yet know how to be part of Harry's life but he tried and Harry was willing to give him a chance. Until he wasn’t proven wrong, that is. 

"Will you meet him anyway?" Harry asked. He didn't want to beg. 

"If you insist," Tom replied and Harry reached across the table to squeeze his hand. 

༄❂༄

"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron shouted with a big grin plastered on his face. He had been grinning nonstop for the past ten minutes and Harry was getting worried about his cheeks; they must be hurting. The match almost ended with a tie but in the 86th minute - leaving only four minutes till the end - the most beautiful goal Harry had ever seen was scored. The fans exploded from their seats, cheering loudly, some even crying. Harry bumped his fist with Ron's and they patted each other on their backs, and Harry would swear Ron's eyes were a bit misty, but so were his so he wouldn't judge. This was what it felt like to be a proper fan, endless devotion and in return, witnessing such memorable goals. Harry was on cloud nine.

"That was absolutely the best goal I have ever seen!" Ron exclaimed.

"We are so close to winning the league!"

"I know, Harry, can you imagine that?"

"The first time in thirty years." 

The cheering seemed to last an eternity and they stayed till the end of the ceremony. After managing to free themselves from the crowd, they agreed on having a beer. 

"Gods, I missed this," Harry said with delight upon taking a big gulp from his mug. Ron chuckled at his expression. "I haven't had proper beer in ages."

"How so?" Ron frowned. 

"Tom hates it so we drink only wine."

Speaking without a filter, Ron remarked, "That's a little stupid, mate."

"Nah, it's alright," Harry said and turned his head to face the pub, his gaze sliding over the crowd. Nothing in particular caught his attention, the majority were either talking laughing, or drinking. Harry didn't like it when his friends criticised his relationship, they rarely said anything positive, only focusing on the negative aspects. Harry wasn't naive to think his relationship was perfect but nothing ever was. 

In a need of a change in topic, he turned back to Ron. "Proffespo is closing in a month, meaning I'll need another job."

"What, really? Why are they closing?"

"Changing a locality."

"Well, that's shit. You've been there for ages."

"Yeah, almost three years." It wasn't the job of his dreams, but he liked it and was accustomed to the workflow. Sure, selling sports equipment wasn't the most exciting job, but it was the customer stories that made it worth something. Like a man in his fifties, whose wife had ordered him to buy something to work out on to get rid of his paunch - his wife's words - who had out of protest, bought a chess set. 

"Do you know," Ron broke him out of his nostalgia which had left a light smile on his face- "what kind of job you want to do next?"

"No clue."

"Don't worry about it, mate, we'll look for something." He grabbed his glass and motioned for Harry to do the same. They clicked them against each other in a toast. 

"To new opportunities." Harry smiled.

"Thanks for bringing me to the game, Harry," Ron said seriously when the glass was put back on the table and his mouth wiped from the foam. 

"Don't mention it," Harry said softly. He knew how much it meant for Ron too who couldn't carelessly spend money either. 

Ron nodded and Harry was pleased it was Ron who had gone with him in the end. Ron was genuinely happy and Harry could join in that joy. Had it been Tom, he'd have listened to endless complains of the gracelessness of football in comparison to tennis which was a far more worthy sport to watch. Harry liked tennis, but football was _football_. 

Ron left the table to buy another round and when he was back, Harry welcomed his drink as warmly as the first one. Ron noticed. "Jeez, mate, you shouldn't neglect beer, you look like a starving man." He shook his head, not understanding how Harry could commit such a crime to which Harry chuckled. 

"I know, I'll do better from now on," Harry promised. He drank until the level was at three fourths, and only after then did he start speaking again. "So," Harry looked at his best friend and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "How're you and Hermione?"

Despite being together for what seemed to Harry like an eternity but was in reality only around four years, Ron still blushed when asked this particular question. "Eh, we're good."

"Oh, I know," Harry smirked mischievously which made Ron even redder. Harry was grateful he wasn't a redhead, it must be a pain in the arse to blush all the time. 

For all Hermione's claims Ron was slow at getting things, Harry had never had such a problem with his mate. And now, he was sure Ron knew what he'd been hinting at. After all, it hadn't happened only once that Harry - or Neville - had to bang on Ron and Hermione's bedroom door for being too loud during sex. As long as Harry didn't know the details, he and Neville were fine with just teasing the couple mercilessly. 

"So, nothing new?" Harry pried. He lived with them, of course, but he couldn't ask Ron how it was going with his girl right in front of Hermione. It had been quite a long time since they had a good talk, just the two of them. 

"Well," Ron started a bit nervously. He shifted in his seat and scratched on the back of his neck - Harry recognized the signs. Ron was about to tell him some big news. "I was thinking of...you know...eh- asking the question," he finished awkwardly. 

"Yeah?" Harry asked, trying to look surprised. Ron, thankfully, didn't notice the act, due to his own nervousness. 

"I mean...it's time, isn't it?" Ron looked at him questioningly and Harry was honoured Ron wanted to debate the thing with him first. 

"It's the next logical step, yeah."

"But then there's another problem... we won't be able to move out, my wallet is nowhere near ready for that."

"Just because you get engaged doesn't mean you'll have to move out." Harry didn't want to even think about it. He wouldn't be able to pay the rent and- no. He would not think about it. 

"Yeah. That's true, mate." He went to say more when they both heard-

"Aha, if it isn't my favourite godson." They both looked up to see two people standing near their table, one of them Harry's godfather, seemingly in a good mood. Sirius looked his usual self: black Sex Pistols shirt, ripped jeans and black, heavy boots. However, his beard was gone, making his curly hair a more prominent feature. Harry liked the new image.

Next to him was standing a woman with dark hair, big smile, and, judging by her clothes, no care in the world. She wore high black boots, torn stockings, a white skirt with cacti adorning it, a black t-shirt with a middle finger on it and over it, a too big checkered shirt. 

"You don't have another one, you prick," she said, elbowing Sirius. He'd like her, Harry decided. 

"Cheers," Ron said with his beer mug in one hand, and after the greetings, Harry motioned for them to sit. Sirius sat next to Harry, and the woman opposite, next to Ron. 

"Oh, right, this is Marlene, a friend from school."

"More likely the only girl you haven't slept with."

"Shhh," Sirius scolded her, horrified. "I work very hard to maintain my good reputation in front of Harry."

"Um. How do you know you've ever had it?" Harry said cheekily. 

Sirius clutched at his chest, turning to his godson. "Now, I am wounded."

"You're such a drama queen," Ron addressed to Sirius, "no wonder the twins like you."

"Yes, Fred and George are my kind of people."

"Oh, so they are real?" Marlene asked to which Sirius replied with a certain finger. She tipped her head back and laughed, the two bickering for a minute before she got up to get the next round. It was apparently a fight and she'd lost though her reaction told Harry this wasn't the first time such a thing happened... 

Sirius turned to them and winked, so full of himself. "So, how have you two been?"

"Alright, I guess," Harry said. 

"We've just been to the game!" Ron said enthusiastically. "I saw that bloody goal in person and it was the most glorious thing in my life."

Sirius chuckled. "Ah bugger, we only saw it on the TV. We're surfing the bars tonight. This is the third one... I think?" he finished pensively. 

"It must be bad if you already don't remember."

How he was full of energy all the time, Harry would never know. He surely must have some demons, as everyone, but Harry couldn't imagine what they would be. He hadn't been that close to his godfather. He couldn't imagine what his life would've been like if Sirius had appeared sooner in it, yet sometimes he hoped he could salvage what they still had left. 

"Oh, right," Harry suddenly remembered. "Tom agreed to have dinner with you. Er- I mean, all three of us." Sirius smirked, making Harry bewildered. The image of Sirius having romantic dinner with his partner just...weirded him out. "Blimey, that didn't sound like I wanted to. I mean-"

Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder in a calming gesture, stopping him from overthinking. "Relax, I know what you mean."

"Oh, good." 

Ron started laughing with his mouth fully open, pointing his finger at Harry's face. "Mate, you should see yourself right now. You look like...a child caught eating sweets."

"Well, thanks for your support, mate," Harry said sarcastically. Tom hated how bad he could get with words sometimes, how he stuttered from time to time. He developed a habit of pinching Harry's neck, saying something about behavioural - or was it behaviouristic? - theories. It was supposed to make Harry stop talking stupidly, but it only made him annoyed. He told Tom it hadn't been working, but he was quietened up by 'Ah, so you think you know better?' which he obviously didn't. 

Sirius squeezed his shoulder before taking his hand away, warmth from the touch lingering. 

"Do you want me to cook at my place or would you rather somewhere more formal?"

"Eh, I think Tom will prefer a restaurant."

"I meant - ah, nevermind. Tell him I'm paying, yeah?"

Harry nodded and they fell into small talk, now involving Ron properly. It turned back to Liverpool and how high the chances were of winning the League. 

Marlene came back with beer for everyone, complaining there were too many people at the bar, making everything slow. Over the course of the night, Harry got to know her. She was a huge cat lover, liked the same music as Sirius - she said they went to most of their concerts together - and that she worked at the kindergarten. Both he and Ron were surprised by that last thing, judging by her image, but Sirius told them she was amazing with kids. 

They moved to another bar where they played table football, Harry and Ron against the older two. It was a tie and they argued a lot, spilling beer and gesticulating widely. But then someone suggested they alter the teams and it worked magically. Sirius' recklessness was subdued by Ron's tactics and reflexes while Harry's technique added to Marlene's sudden charges at the goal. Alcohol finally setting in, the game seemed like the most important thing in the world. The group was loud and Harry was enjoying every second of it. 

Once Harry and Marlene were established the winners, they walked to yet another bar, Harry sobering slightly in the chilly April air. The losers bought white rum for everyone while Harry glanced around. This bar was underground, in a place resembling a cave. There was a little bit of space for dancing and they joined the crowds, holding each other tipsily. Music echoed off the walls as Harry found himself holding Marlene's shoulders from the back and someone holding his behind him in the same way. He turned to find Ron grinning at him drunkenly and yelling something at him. He only caught _Sirius_ and _train_ , but nodded at Ron anyway, and let himself be led through the crowd. 

Despite being almost two decades older than Harry and Ron, Marlene and Sirius were the ones acting like teenagers. It was great. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had so much fun or laughed just as much. They lasted many songs, annoyed even more people and when they needed a pause to catch their breaths, before moving back to a table. Harry stumbled to the loo, humming a song while pissing and when he was washing his hands, his pocket vibrated. He took out his phone and squinted at the display, recognizing Tom's name after a few painful seconds. 

He answered. "Yeeeeah?" He flailed and had to support his back against the sinks, chuckling aloud. 

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, "Are you drunk?"

Harry stopped staring happily at the toilet stalls in front of him and his smile froze. Tom's tone wasn't angry nor did he raise his voice; no, it was completely chilly. 

Harry sobered up in an instant. 

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, fighting off the traces of alcohol from his mind. "We went out and-" The line went dead. "Tom?" Harry tried again and receiving no answer, he lowered his hand from his ear and looked at the display. The call really did end. He found out he had also two missed calls from him from earlier. He must had not heard or felt it when they had been dancing. He dialled Tom's number again, and he answered. Thankfully. 

"You know, boy, I hate it when people get drunk mindlessly."

"I know," Harry said quietly. He'd been having fun, yes, but he regretted drinking now. He knew Tom's reasoning, his father was a drunkard and abused him and Tom's mother. Tom absolutely despised him. 

"Who are you with?" 

"Er, Ron. And my godfather and his friend from highschool."

"Black? I knew he'd be a bad influence for you."

"But-"

"Making you drunk, of all things. Responsible adult, sure," he hissed. "Where are you?"

"Um, I think something called Lucky Hour?"

"He brought you to _that_ place?!" There was incredulousness and contempt in his voice and it made Harry shiver. "Go outside and wait for me there, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, shocked. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "It's all fine here, Tom, you don't need to-"

"I said wait outside, Harry."

Getting worked up, he raised his voice. "I'm not a kid, Tom!" Some men doing their business, that he'd been ignoring until now, looked at him questioningly and he glared back at them. "We were just having fun. And I'm not that drunk."

"I don't care, you have drunk, therefore I'm coming to pick you up. It's for your own safety. Wait outside. Twelve minutes."

Harry looked at his phone feeling numb, as he watched his phone slowly count down the minutes until his night was over. Finally, when he figured Tom would be pulling up in the next few minutes he pocketed it and left the loo, heading to their table - he was given an order, after all. He grabbed his jacket, pulling his arms through the sleeves slowly, which caught everyone's attention. "Mate, you ok?"

"Yeah. Tom's here and he's taking me home," he said without any emotion. He pulled his wallet out to leave some money for the others to pay for his drinks. 

"What?!" Sirius stood outstretching his arms, but Marlene pulled him back down by his t-shirt. 

"Thank you all for this evening, I had fun."

Seeing his determined look, Ron nodded. "All right, mate, see you at home." Harry nodded and turned to leave the bar. The cold breeze seemed to seep into his bones as Harry stood waiting for the familiar black BMW.

Tom arrived a minute later, not sparing Harry a single glance. 

_Buckle up_ , was the only thing he said during the whole drive. Harry tried talking to him but he didn't answer. He apologised, but Tom stayed silent. After a few times Harry gave up and stared out of the window, the city lights blurring and moving quickly, and all he wanted to do was sleep. 

He hoped Neville and Hermione were already in their rooms, he didn't feel like talking to them now. He had contemplated offering Ron a ride home, but he was glad he hadn't. He likely would have said something about the silence, say that Tom didn't respect him or that he was too controlling, but the seat was comfy and Harry could smell Tom's cologne and he just didn't want to think anymore. 

The car halted and he blinked several times, looking around and noticing they were in front of his apartment. He turned back to his partner, expecting _something_ , at least a good night before departing. Tom pulled the handbrake and turned to his left, facing Harry. 

"You’ve disappointed me."

"I-" Harry started, but found he couldn't finish the sentence. He left the car and stared at its red lights as it was speeding away. 

I am sorry, his mind supplied, although it was too late. 


End file.
